From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings
by LittleMewLugia
Summary: Sixty years on from 2007, both sides have offspring although the war is ongoing. Not that that stops the Autobot and Decepticon Sparklings from wanting to interact…
1. Chapter 1

From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings.

Summary: Sixty years on from 2007, both sides have offspring although the war is ongoing. Not that that stops the Autobot and Decepticon Sparklings from wanting to interact…

Universe: Movieverse.

Rating: T for safety.

Disclaimer: Transformers isn't mine. It belongs to Hasbro and Dreamworks/Paramount.

From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings.

A/N: This is a more in-depth look nat the incident descrivbed in the 4th of 'Sam's Snippets'.

When Prowl found that the sparklings had once again all snuck out of Base, he huffed through his vents and reported to Optimus. He received instructions to go out and retrieve them, with Bluestreak and Ironhide to help. Prowl knew there were four or five places they could have gone, but by now, he knew of an easy way to locate them, and that was to look for increased air traffic.

It seemed that sparklings wanted to be near each other, whether they were Seekers or groundlings, for Prowl had learned that if he could see the Seeker sparklings, the grounder sparklings would usually be somewhere nearby.

Sure enough, when Prowl detected the little fliers and headed towards them, he found the Autobot sparklings mixing with the Decepticon sparklings. Most of them were pretending to fire at each other, and Prowl gave a grim smile when he realised they were playing at war.

"War is not a game. I have been sent to bring you home." he said, stepping out to where they could see him. He grabbed hold of his own sparkling, Flywheel, and beckoned over Gilt,(Ironhide and Chromia's femme,) Hip-hop (Jazz's mech) Illusion (Mirage's mech) and the various other Autobot sparklings: Ironhide and Bluestreak began picking them up.

"But it's _not_ just war." said Flywheel, motioning behind him. Prowl looked and stared. There was Runway, Starscream's mech, locked in an embrace with Terra Prima, Optimus' femme, dermaplating to dermaplating. "They're calling a ceasefire and sealing the deal in the usual manner."

Prowl snorted, part irritated and part amused.

"If only it were that easy, but I don't see Starscream as the 'Kiss-and-make-up' sort of mech. War and politics are so much more complicated, too complicated for you younglings to understand. What you _have_ been told before, however, still stands and is simple enough to understand." He stepped over, pulling the two apart. They looked up in surprise, guilt ,and disappointment. He picked up Terra Prima and grabbed Flywheel's hand again with his other. He looked at both of them, then at the other assembled Autobot sparklings.

"No mixing with the Decepticon's younglings. If their parents found you, they could hurt you or use you against us." As the sound of jet engines was heard, at first far off and getting steadily closer, Ironhide powered up his cannons as Bluestreak gathered the other Autobot sparklings behind him.

"Speak of the Unmaker." Prowl muttered as the three members of the Command Trine hove into view.

The other two stayed hovering, one in jet form, the other unfolding into robot form, while Starscream, also assuming robot form, landed gracefully and lightly on his thrusters. He beckoned imperiously with one hand.

"Come here you lot, you're almost more trouble than you are worth. You _know_ you are not permitted to associate with that rabble. You fliers are banned from the sky for two days once we get home, the groundling youngsters must stay within the Base confines for the same amount of time."

The fliers and ground-based Decepticon younglings all set up a disappointed clamour, some of the fliers actually wailing with distress. Starscream ignored it, signalling his wingbrothers to land: they did so, the one in jet form first transforming mid-air, and began gathering up the ground-form younglings.

"Those of you who can fly, gather behind me, Thundercracker and Skywarp will bring up the rear, and _stop shouting_, you _knew_ you were doing wrong, so you must take your punishment."

"Starscream, it seems we are finally in accord about one thing." Prowl stated. "In future, kindly keep _your_ younglings away from _ours_!"

"You're a fine one to talk, Autobot. If you kept control of your younglings, we wouldn't have this problem!"

"If we controlled _our_ younglings? It's _your_ flying types that fly up and signal their presence that serves to draw _our_ younglings away!" Prowl stated evenly, trying to control his temper. "Keep _your_ younglings under control in whatever way you see fit, but most of all, keep them away from _our_ younglings." he said. Starscream scowled.

"I don't take orders from you Autobot, and certainly do _not_ appreciate being told how to bring up _our _sparklings! You deal with yours, we'll deal with ours, and if we _all_ do our jobs properly, this should no longer be an issue."

Prowl chose to ignore the Seeker's goad, instead stating, "Now, Autobots, transform and roll out, Ironhide and Bluestreak, you bring up the rear, younglings, you stay behind me and in front of the other two at all times. And oh, yes, you are _not_ to be allowed out of the Base unsupervised for the next two days: someone will sit out to supervise you to stop you sneaking off!"

"So much for freedom," one of the sparklings - Prowl didn't see which one - muttered darkly.

"Freedom with younglings is granted only when the younglings in question can show the ability to use it maturely and sensibly. Abuse of the privileges results in their temporary suspension." Prowl stated.

Putting Terra Prima down and letting go of Flywheel's hand, he transformed and moved to the head of the convoy, as Thundercracker and Skywarp, their arms full of the grounder younglings, took off.

The Autobots moved out, and Starscream, waving to the mini-wing of fliers, took off, and both groups headed for their respective bases.

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Decepticon Base, one day later.

"No, Runway and Firefly, you cannot go outside, I _said_ two days without the sky and I _meant_ it!" snapped Starscream. "You only want to go outside to see if you can signal to theirs and sneak off again, well you heard that probe-up-his-aft Prowl, _they're_ stuck under supervision too!"

"It's so not _fair_!" Runway cried and his sister was quick to agree. "Just because _you're _at war, _we_ can't see our friends. You adults ruin _everything_!"

"No Runway, it's because you sneak off away from our sight, where _anything_ could happen that we have to do this." Starscream said.

"So, if we invited our friends round to where you could see us, or to a place you knew as safe, you'd let us play with them?" Runway asked hopefully.

"No! You are _not_ to associate with them!" Starscream said. Firefly nudged her brother.

"Don't bother, like all adults he's just making excuses. It _is_ what we said, because of _their_ war, _we_ can't have the others as friends!"

Starscream looked at his unhappy, sullen offspring, and reviewed the conversation they had just had in his head, and came to a startling realisation: his younglings were _right_. The difficulties arose not due to problems between the children, but between the relevant Creators. If, as they had suggested, the younglings were supervised, what was the problem? Why force the misery of their conflict on their younglings?

Making a snap decision, he sent several comms: one was to Soundwave, to watch the younglings in his absence. The other was a summons to his trine-mates and to the members of both the Conehead Trine and the Rainmaker Trine.

He headed for the Base entrance, awaited the arrival of the others. Once they were all there, they all converted into jet form, and took off.

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It was Bumblebee who was on watch over the younglings who were playing outside the Autobot base, so only Bumblebee observed what happened that youngsters seemed subdued to him, their play muted and at times stilted, there was none of the exuberance Bumblebee associated with his own younglinghood. bumblebee felt a little sorry for them, they just wanted to play, but the war just brought unhappiness and division into their lives.

It was a well known but irritating fact that sometimes some of the Decepticon fliers - usually the Command Trine - took to flying over the Autobot base, but generally did no more than make a few rude signs as they flew past, so Bumblebee had no reason to believe that day would be any different when he heard the whine of approaching plane engines.

All the same, he blew his horn to get the youngling's attentions, beckoning for them to come over by him. He looked up, and saw that there seemed to be three lines of fliers. Three trine's worth, that was unusual.

He watched them warily, they had not tried to cover up their approach and as he watched, one of them winked out. That one, of course, had to be Skywarp. He barely had time to wonder what he was doing when with a pop of displaced air, the Seeker appeared above him, grabbed him by his shoulders, and disappeared again.

Straight after him came Starscream and Thundercracker, who took advantage of the youngling's shocked immobility to swoop down and scoop up those nearest the gate.

The others panicked and scattered, but the other two ranks of fliers were prepared for this, swooping down to grab or otherwise divert the fleeing younglings. Skywarp managed to intercept two who almost made it back into the base, popping in just before they got there, scooping them up, and popping out with them.

The Autobots who had been alerted by Bumblebee's panicked comm from where Skywarp had dumped him two kilometers away got out in time to see the Seekers disappearing into the distance, a few fading cries the only other clue to where the younglings were.


	2. Chapter 2

From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings.

Chapter Two.

A/N:1 breem = about six minutes.

Skywarp, with his unique ability, was the first of the Seekers to get back to the Decepticon base. He adjusted the squealing younglings in his arms and set off towards the medbay, trying to calm down the frightened little mech and femme he held, with hushes and cooing and hummed tunes.

They had calmed a little by the time he got them into the medbay, Skywarp found that a constant stream of promises that he wouldn't hurt them and that they could go back home later, worked wonders. As he walked over to the medic, Dr Syn, said medic looked up, and spotted the younglings. His optics widened.

"Where did you get _those_? What do you intend to do with them?" he said sharply.

"Take them to play with our younglings safely, but they seem to have been a little upset by the trip. Do you have anything nice for younglings? That sweet energon drink, perhaps?"

The two, who were still making small mewls and whimpers immediately quieted at this suggestion: they liked sweet energon. Dr Syn smiled.

"Certainly." He raised his voice. "Scanner, Electrode, come out here and bring two extra cubes of drink, you have guests!" As Skywarp put the Autobot younglings down on the floor, there was the sound of running steps from the room beyond, the one that the medic had outfitted as his own quarters, and his own mech and femme ran out, blinked in surprise and then rushed forwards to give the little cubes they had brought with them to the intended recipients, emitting little squeals of welcome.

"Terra Prima! Landspeed!" the femme, Electrode, cried in delight. "You're here, you're really _here_!" She looked up at Skywarp worriedly. "But - but you said we mustn't play with them. Please can we play, _please_?"

The other three sparklings all added their pleas to hers, and Skywarp smiled.

"Well, of course. We realised we really _were_ being unfair by stopping you meeting each other. So, we decided to bring your friends here, where we could make sure you were all safe, so yes, you can go in the big hangar to play. In fact, if you wait a few moments, the other guests will be here."

Skywarp had picked up the sound of the rest of the fliers coming in.

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The Autobots looked around as the engine sounds and the cries faded away, hoping that at least one or two of the little ones had escaped and managed to hide, but although they looked everywhere, turned their scans up to maximum, and their audio pickups to the highest sensitivity, they found no hidden sparklings.

Optimus turned at a touch to his arm to see Elita looking at him: the stricken look on her face he was certain was mirrored on his own. "Where is she? Where is Terra Prima?" she asked. Optimus looked at where Ironhide was holding Chromia to him, to where Bluestreak was still looking under bushes in a vain attempt to find his own little mech, Landspeed.

"They've taken them, Elita." he said sadly. "They've taken all of our younglings away." His voice hardened. "Which means we must storm their base and recover them." He raised his voice so all would hear.

"Back inside, in the big meeting room, all who can attend should attend. Tell Prowl we will have need of his tactical skills. Until now, neither side has stooped so low as to attack the sparklings of the other side. It is not my intention to go to their level with a similar retaliation, but we _must_ retrieve our _own_ younglings before they come to any harm. We must plan our attack well, but move fast. Come."

He moved inside, the others following him. Ratchet, who had not gone outside but was waiting in the medbay for news, had been commed. He sent back a reply that he would attend, but would be a few moments late, and crossed to his communication console. He punched in a specific code, and a few moments later the call was picked up.

"Just _what_ in the name of Primus is going _on_?" he asked the respondee. "Why have our Sparklings been taken? I hope you have a good reason for this, or this conflict is going to escalate very violently and_ very_ quickly!"

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The courtyard of the Decepticon base was filled with the sound of frightened younglings, and also with the sound of trilling, humming, and cooing, as the eight Seekers, crouching down to bring their optics down to a lower level, tried to calm their thirteen young passengers. Skywarp came out, saw the situation, and disappeared back inside, returning a moment later with thirteen of the small cubes of sweet energon Dr Syn made especially for the Base younglings. He circulated amongst the younglings, handing out the energon, giving an encouraging stroke or a few words of reassurance where needed.

Midway through, Ramjet noticed, took a few cubes, and assisted, and fairly soon each youngling was holding a cube. Although most were now drinking from them, there were still two or three who just clung to their cubes and cried, still frightened and uncertain what was to happen to them.

Starscream commed Soundwave:** Send out our own younglings, plus the two earlier arrivals. Maybe that will reassure them. **As he saw the medic approach, he stood, still holding one of the younglings who was still too scared to drink.

"Starscream, whose idea was this?"

"Why, mine." Starscream said. Dr Syn grabbed his upper arm.

"What were you _thinking_ of? This could be construed as an act of hostility! Has your logic module crashed? What do you intend to _do_ with all these?"

"Allow them to play with their friends in a situation that is safe and under Creator-Guardianship," Starscream stated. Doctor Syn pulled on his arm.

"Then perhaps _you_ should be the one to explain your reasoning to the Autobot medic," Dr Syn said to him. "He's on the line demanding an explanation. It seems it _has_ been interpreted as a hostile act. He says all the other Creators are engaged in a council of war. Unless you want the war to go back to shots being fired rather than the testing of limits, shows of strength, and posturing we've managed to keep it to in the last forty years, I suggest you explain yourself. Make it good and make it fast, because how quickly do you think _you_ would react if it were the Autobots who had stolen away _our_ younglings, with no explanation and no warning?"

"Very." Starscream admitted, a frown crossing his face as he realised how rash his snap decision of half an hour ago had been. As the medic turned to go back in the medbay, Starscream, still holding the frightened youngling, was right behind him.

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Ratchet waited as the medic of the Decepticon base went to find somebody who knew more about the current situation. He hoped the medic would be fast: he could hear Chromia outlining a worryingly efficient plan, and then demanding action, and he had learned that if she was determined, what Chromia _wanted_, Chromia generally _got_.

Between the six of them, the Autobot femmes had carried all the Base sparklings: all three of Ironhide's had been carried by her, and about three others too, including his own Torquewrench. By the sound of the shouting coming from the meeting room, all of the femmes, and many of the mechs, were out for energon, and Chromia's stirring call was only exacerbating the tense atmosphere. Not for the first time, Ratchet found himself wishing that Chromia was not such a good public speaker.

His thoughts were interrupted as Starscream stepped into view on the screen, and Ratchet suffered a brief vent-stall as he saw the frightened mech Starscream was holding was his own Torquewrench.

"Ratchet-Creator!" the youngling cried as he saw him on the screen.

"Torquewrench, it's going to be okay." Ratchet rushed to assure him, hoping he was right about that. "What is that in your hands? A drink? It looks good." he said, figuring that if the younglings were being given drinks that they were more valuable to the Decepticons alive and unharmed.

Torque' looked at the cube he held as if for the first time.

"It's a sweet energon drink our medic came up with." Starscream said, lifting the cube without taking it away to take a sip. "See, it's quite safe." he said.

"Go ahead, drink it, it'll give you the energy you might need later." Ratchet said, well aware of what the drink contained: Dr Syn had given him the formula many orns ago.

Torque' nodded, took an uncertain sip, and his optic shutters flickered twice.

"Nice!" he said, and proceeded to drink more. Starscream gave the small mech a gentle, affectionate stroke.

"Now your mech is relaxed enough to drink, I believe you wished to speak to me about my motives?" Starscream asked.

"Yes." Ratchet said. "Why have you kidnapped our younglings? What do you intend to do with them?"

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you," Starscream replied. "I decided they should be permitted to play with their friends, that is, our sparklings, when my own Runway and Firefly pointed out to me how very unfair it was that _our_ war determined who _they_ could be friends with. I decided that supervised, _permitted_ play in a safe environment where we know where they are, and _know_ they are safe, is more desirable than_ forbidden_ play, where they might end up in a dangerous situation while trying to _hide_ from us."

"Well, you could have _asked_, we could have worked something out, " Ratchet said lamely.

"How long would _that_ have taken to agree, considering we've spent so long trying to keep them apart?" Starscream asked. "All the while our Sparklings finding a dangerous site for their clandestine play remaining an increasingly likely possibility. I decided to skip the parental permission bit until we had them in a safe location already. Don't worry, we intend to return the favour, next time they can all play in _your_ base."

"Okay, we'll discuss this further later. Give me a breem while I go and interrupt the meeting and stop them acting in haste." Ratchet said. He paused. "That's strange, it's awfully quiet in there."

Ratchet got to the room, only to find it empty. He rushed to the control room, to find Prowl, Bluestreak, and Hound in there, manning the room.

"Where is everybody else?" he asked, panicked.

"They're in the strike force the femmes are leading to recover our younglings, where _else_ did you think they were?" Prowl asked. Ratchet turned to look at Bluestreak, who was on the communications desk.

"There's been a terrible mistake, a lack of judgement on both our parts. Bluestreak, call them, tell them to abort their attack. There's been a terrible mistake!"

Bluestreak toggled some switches and pushed buttons trying to get them.

"Nothing but static. Hold on, I'll try comming them." he said.

Bluestreak tried first comming Chromia, then Optimus, and then each of the others who had gone on the mission. He shook his head.

"Nothing, They must be running as a stealth mission, complete communications blackout. I can't reach them Ratchet, I can't stop them, and they are too far away by now for any of us to catch them up. I'm sorry, but I cant call them off now."

"Keep trying, Bluestreak!" Ratchet cried, and set of at a run back for his medbay, his Spark flickering in fear.

He had to warn Starscream...


	3. Chapter 3

From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings.

Chapter Three.

A/N: Credit to KDZeal for the word "winglet" for little Seekers, and thanks for helping beta this chapter.

Optimus, Jazz, and Ironhide were silent throughout their journey to the Decepticon Base. They ran with their engines on silent, their paintwork muted, and with their headlights on only when other vehicles were on the roads.

Bumblebee, Mirage, and Cliffjumper had gone out in front, to scout out the area, while the femmes, accompanied by Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, had fanned out behind them as the main force. The other three ground forms would bring up the rear. Powerglide was airborne, providing arial reconnaissance and air cover.

The Decepticons had stolen their younglings. The Autobots intended to steal them back, and would do almost anything in order to do so.

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Starscream nodded as Ratchet finished explaining the situation to him.

"Actually, I don't think that I'll have too great a problem with it," Starscream said. "They are likely to send out an advance of scouts first, I believe. It's the sensible thing to do before engaging in any action. Yes, I have a plan, and before you ask, Ratchet, it should not involve anybody being hurt, either youngling or adult."

"Let's hope that the other Creators are being sensible about this," Ratchet said.

"Oh, I think they will be," Starscream said. "I myself may be hasty and impatient, but were our positions reversed, I would be certain to be very careful if I feared the safety of my younglings was at stake."

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It was Mirage, who had gone on ahead, who first caught sight of the playing younglings. He had activated his disrupter, planning to try and sneak in and find out where the younglings were held, but he stood in surprise and relief at the sight before him as he reached the crest of a hill.

The space in front of the Decepticon base was crawling with younglings, almost literally. The ground forms were mostly in robot form, chasing each other about and occasionally snagging one of the flyer younglings out of the air, or conversely, being pulled along by said flyer. Several of the adults, including the Command Trine and two of the coneheads were also out with them, picking up a youngling here and there, handing out cubes of sweet energon or, (in the case of Skywarp) being used as a mobile berth by two or three who had already worn themselves out. Mirage quickly looked over the younglings, identifying amongst them all of those belonging to the Autobots. They all looked either sleepy of happy, and none appeared to have been harmed. As the wind changed direction, Mirage could only hear adult and Sparkling laughter, or happy-sounding voices.

Mirage took a last look at his own mech, Illusion, who appeared to have made two flyer-friends, before creeping down the hill, becoming visible again, and heading off to find Chromia. Bumblebee and Cliffjumper would find out with their own optics, but Mirage thought that the main force should be informed that the younglings were not just unharmed and safe, but appeared to be perfectly happy to be where they were.

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"I will go back with Mirage, to verify what he has told us, the rest of you wait here," Chromia instructed. "Elita, open your comms to accept incoming messages from me only. If Optimus, Jazz and Ironhide catch you up in the meantime, appraise them of the situation and then follow us, slowly and carefully. Perhaps we can resolve this peaceably, or perhaps not."

"Well, if Mirage is correct, it looks like we won't be using our jet-judo today. With nine Seekers around, it seems a shame," said Sunstreaker. Sideswipe looked at him with a small smile.

"As long as our younglings are okay, I don't really care."

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Mirage took Chromia back by the fastest route, after Chromia used mirrors to flash the message to Powerglide to stay flying around where the others were waiting. They both transformed into bipedal mode and crept to the top of the hill and peered over the ridge.

Things were much as they had been when Mirage had first looked, the main difference was that the games had moved on a little and that Skywarp was no longer a _mobile_ berth: the number of exhausted younglings had increased by four, two of them winglets, so Skywarp was now lying down, with seven recharging sparklings sprawled in various locations: in his arms, over his cockpit and legs, and one was curled up on each wing. He didn't seem to care: his optic shutters were fully closed and he looked like he, too, had gone into recharge.

"Well, while it's just the two of us, maybe we should let them know we're here? If we wait for the others, the number of us may be construed as a threat, and I don't think that that's a good idea under the circumstances." Mirage suggested.

"Agreed." Chromia said. "I will stand up, then perhaps you should stand up next to me." Mirage nodded.

Chromia climbed to the top of the ridge and slowly stood, spreading her arms to show her weapons were powered down. Mirage then followed suit, following her example. They decided against calling out or moving closer, and waited to be noticed.

It didn't take very long: It was Gilt who saw them first.

"Chromia-Creator!" she cried, disengaging herself from the three winglets who had gathered around her in a group cuddling session, and running towards her. Chromia moved forwards to meet her halfway, her optics daring anybody to say anything about it: wisely, nobody did.

Gilt threw herself into Chromia's arms.

"Gilt, are you okay?" Chromia asked, her optics flickering over the femme's form anxiously. Chromia noticed the three winglets following Gilt towards her.

"'M okay, been playing, 'n having fun," she said. Then an uncertain looked crossed over her face.

"Um…you don't like my friends, I guess you've come to take me away again," she said, hanging her head.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Chromia said, surprising herself. "I guess there's no real harm in it."

"Yay!" said Gilt, throwing her arms around Chromia's neck. "Love you!"

Chromia felt small hands grab at her legs. She jumped back, startled, and looked down over Gilt's shoulder to see they belonged to the winglets.

"Well, hello," she said to them with a smile. "Who are you? I'm Chromia."

"Wow, we've heard lots about you. Um-I'm Skyshadow," the mech said.

"I'm Firefly, this is Cirrus," one of the femmes said, indicating the other femme beside her who just looked up but didn't say anything, but stretched her arms up towards Chromia.

Chromia looked at her in puzzlement, noticing Mirage approaching from the corner of her optic.

"You want me to put Gilt back down?" she asked.

"No, I been told winglets love cuddles. She wanna hug from you too," Gilt said into Chromia's audio.

"I don't see why not," she said with another smile, shifting Gilt so she was supported by one arm, then crouched to scoop the quiet winglet into her other arm, standing and holding her close to her. She felt warm little hands slide over her plating and tighten as Cirrus returned the cuddle.

The other two began bouncing up and down on their feet, holding out their own arms in the same way, but were more vocal in their requests.

"Hugs, hugs! Us too, please? Friend's Creator give us cuddles too? Please?" they cried.

"Well…I only have two arms, I can't hug you _all_," she said.

"Will I do?" asked Mirage. "I'm Mirage, Illusion's mech-Creator."

He crouched and spread his long arms, and the two winglets eagerly threw themselves into his embrace. Mirage laughed warmly, scooping them up and standing, holding the winglets to him.

He took a step backwards as, with a scream of engines, Starscream elegantly landed a few feet away. He also had his arms full of younglings, two of them winglets, as well as Mirage's Illusion and Ratchet's Torquewrench.

"Are they bothering you?" asked the Seeker. "I'm afraid Seeker younglings are rather touch-fond."

"No, not at all," Mirage said, his optics drawn to look at his mech. He felt a pang, half of relief and half of jealously, when he noticed Illusion was halfway to recharge, easily and happily snuggled into the crook of Starscream's elbow.

He turned and inclined his head towards Chromia.

"Ah, the lovely Chromia herself," he said smoothly.

"_Don't _bother trying to flatter your way out of _this_ one," she said. "You almost rekindled the conflict with your foolish thoughtless actions. Just what were you _thinking_ of? That's assuming you were doing any _thinking_ at all!"

"Well, I _was _thinking-just not very clearly I guess," he said. Chromia huffed through her vents.

"Maybe the next time you decide to carry out some glitch-headed idea you could try engaging your logic module and processor clusters _before_ doing or saying something you might later regret?"

Mirage just stared as Starscream actually looked embarrassed and said "Yes ma'am." He had seen a lot of things in his life, but one he _never_ thought he'd see was Chromia scolding the leader of the Decepticons as though the Seeker were an errant youngling.

"Chromia?" came Ironhide's bass voice. "I take it from your tone that our younglings are not only safe and well, but getting up to their usual mischief. Which one's in trouble now?"

"None of _them_," Starscream interjected. "Ironhide, does that femme of yours sharpen her glossa in your armoury under your instruction?" The banter was enough to reassure the Autobots that they could make their way over the hill without risk of attack, and they did come over. Starscream put Torquewrench down as he wriggled, and he ran over to Ratchet, as Powerglide landed nearby and moved to retrieve Moonbeam. Optimus and Elita moved over, scanned the sparklings in Starscream's, Mirage's and Chromia's arms with their optics, and Optimus said "Where's Terra Prima? Where is our little femme?"

He felt a tap on his shoulder, it was Bluestreak. He pointed at the recumbent Skywarp, and Optimus then immediately spotted his youngling.

She and Starscream's mech Runway were both in Skywarp's arms, recharging, their arms wrapped around each other.


	4. Chapter 4

From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings.

Chapter Four.

A/N: 1 joor is about 6.5 hours. Sorry, short chapter this time...:) The term 'winglets' is owned by KDZeal of the Nerdene Hyrde.

The rest of the Autobots, who had waited further up the hill, came down to join Optimus, Elita and the others as the former moved over to where Skywarp and the sparklings lay sprawled. By now, the other Seekers had become aware of the Autobots' presence and were stood, watching them warily.

Elita bent to pick up Terra Prima, but before she could touch the sparkling, Optimus put one of his hands on her back. She looked up at him to see him slowly shaking his head.

"Why disturb them? We can hold her when she wakens." He smiled at her and she straightened up as she smiled back in ahgreement. As Optimus saw several more of the still-awake sparklings approach, he chuckled. "I'm sure that, in the meantime, we can introduce ourselves to our younglings' new friends?" He looked to Starscream for permission, and as the Seeker nodded, dropped to a crouch.

The group, composed of younglings from both sides, collectively paused. A mixture of blue and red optics regarded him warily, the Autobots' younglings probably wondering if they were in for a telling-off, the Decepticons' ones sensibly cautious of a new mech whom they had probably been told was an enemy. Optimus opened his arms.

"My name is Optimus Prime." He said, for the benefit of the younglings from the other side. "You may call me Optimus, or if you prefer, as some of those from our Base do, call me Oppy."

Two of the Autobot younglings took a few steps closer and began climbing up into those inviting arms, and as though it was a signal, the whole group quickly followed, the winglets leading the mini-stampede. When Optimus straightened, he had five younglings-two of them winglets- in his big arms, but there were still plenty more who were willing to be cuddled. Some of the Decepticons' younglings were more wary, although the winglets didn't seem to care whose arms they ended up in. By the time Skywarp and the sparklings on him awoke, many of the Autobots had their own offspring back, and some had two or even three little ones, clinging somewhere about their person.

"Well, they seem happy, and no harm appears to have come to them," observed Elita. "However, the manner of their arrival leaves much to be desired." She looked at Starscream, who shook his head and looked towards Chromia.

"I've had the lecture already, from her if you don't mind, and as I pointed out to your medic and to her, negotiations could have dragged on for orns, and all that time they risked getting into dangerous situations while trying to sneak out to play with each other," Starscream said, who had his own pair of winglets back from Mirage. "As it is, they are happy and if we can make this a permanent arrangement, sometimes here, other times at your base, we know they are safe, and we can keep them happy."

Optimus nodded in agreement.

"Than may I suggest a ceasefire, to make it official?" he asked. "Then we can sit down and arrange a few more of these meetings. After all, it seems foolish to officially still be in conflict if we are bringing our young to play at each other's bases." He gave a chuckle of amusement.

Starscream nodded. "Yes, that would appear to be the sensible solution. I believe we might all be more comfortable sat down." He put down his winglets. "Except, of course, those who would like to either recharge, or play with the younglings, I'm sure they'll be bored if they have to sit through our negotiations."

As Optimus put the younglings he was holding down, those who wished to recharge did likewise and Skywarp took them to the medical bay where their recharge chambers were. Optimus and Starscream went to another room to organise the ceasefire

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

It was less than a joor later that Optimus and Starscream walked out side by side and announced that they had agreed a ceasefire containing terms that both found acceptable.

"Well, that's just as well." Elita said, looking around at where most of the younglings were gathered in groups. They had been playing, but had all quieted and turned to listen to the announcement.

It was Terra Prima and Runway who pushed forward from the group they had been in, hand in hand, to stand in front of the two faction leaders, optics wide. Optimus looked at them, and asked "Terra Prima? Runway?" They appeared to be waiting for something, so a moment later, he asked "What is it?" Starscream nodded encoragingly and smiled at them too.

"Aren't you gonna seal the bargain with a hug and kiss?" Runway asked. Terra Prima nodded.

"After all, it's _traditional_." she said, emphasising the last word.

For a moment Optimus and Starscream just stared at the two, than looked at each other.

**I guess it would do no harm to humour them, **Optimus commed.

**Yes, indeed, why disappoint them? **Starscream commed back. He looked at Terra Prima, smiling at her indulgently.

"Of course it is, and tradition is important," he said out loud. "Our traditions have been carried with us over time and through space, they are part of what we brought with us from Cybertron, part of what we are." With that, Starscream turned to Optimus, spreading his arms.

"Well, shall we?" he asked.

"We shall," Optimus stated, opening his own arms. The two moved together, embracing, and pressed their derma together for long enough to satisfy their younglings before breaking the kiss and the embrace.

As the two ran over, Starscream scooped the pair up in his arms and hugged them.

"There, tradition has been observed," he said, hugging them briefly before passing them to Optimus, who just chuckled as he adjusted them so he and they were all comfortable.

"Now," said Starscream to Optimus, "the next of these gatherings should be at your base. Shall we arrange dates and times?"


	5. Chapter 5

From Out Of The Vocals Of Sparklings.

Epilogue.

Four Years Later.

"The sparkling has nothing wrong with her processors, body or Spark as far as my scans can tell me." Ratchet said to Sam and Bumblebee. "However, I think we are all agreed that something is wrong, even Firelight herself, not that even she can explain it."

Firelight was Arcee's most recent creation, but, like her brother Topgear, had been given to Sam and Bumblebee to bring up. Although they could not physically bond like Cybertronians, the two had a deep friendship, and had chosen to bring up the sparklings between them. Arcee and Bumblebee were the spark-parents, but Arcee played no part in their upbringing unless both Sam and Bumblebee needed a sparklingsitter.

"I'm sorry, all I know is that it's as if something I need is missing, I feel anxious, unhappy and frightened." Firelight explained. She had been given the programming to speak rather than learning it from listening to the adults and older younglings because something was obviously wrong, something made Firelight cry, fret, and scream, and Ratchet had hoped she could tell them what was wrong. Unfortunately, that hope had proved to be fruitless.

Sam sighed. "Well, there's only one thing for it." Sam said, nodding to Bumblebee. "You'd better sing, buddy, I think only the Essence can solve this one."

Ratchet's suspicion that the AllSpark Essence had transferred itself into Sam had been confirmed when, over time, he aged far, far slower than most humans. Sam was in his early eighties and looked less than half that: Mikaela, Sam's human wife, had died two years ago looking all of her eighty-odd years. Their five children had all been affected by this too: the oldest looked only twenty-five despite being twice that age. Although the Essence was within Sam, Sam had never tried to use it to create younglings, or do anything else, for a variety of reasons: he wasn't sure it would work and the idea of wielding – and possibly being corrupted by having - such power scared him.

Not to mention, of course that there was no immediate need for new sparklings by the time this was confirmed, the first batch had been created by Sparkmerge by both sides, and they were all having way too much fun rediscovering how to procreate naturally to want Sam to act as the AllSpark for them. It had also been found that an odd side-effect of the femmes carrying made them a little more biddable to those they considered friends – but dangerous to perceived enemies – and the mechs who spent a lot of time around the femmes found it a nice change. Neither were any of the femmes complaining: they all agreed that carrying was a very comfortable state of being.

No, Sam had never been asked to take on the AllSpark's role, much to his relief, but Bumblebee occasionally used his sensitivity to it to communicate with it. Sam wasn't keen on it, but this was one of those times when it seemed there was no alternative, so Sam allowed Bumblebee to pick him up, shifted till he was comfortable in the scout's gentle hands, then nodded to Bumblebee, who began to sing.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

It didn't tale as long as some earlier communications: the AllSpark Essence seemed to sense the urgency of their enquiry. Fifteen minutes later, Bumblebee put Sam down and spoke to Ratchet.

"It says she's sky-hungry, whatever that means."

Ratchet's optics opened very wide.

"It means that somehow, you and Arcee, both grounders, have managed to spark a Seeker." Ratchet said. "Seekers _need_ to fly or they go mad. She should be in a flying body, not that grounder one. She should be a winglet."

"That should be easy enough, shouldn't it?" Sam asked. "You can transfer her to a winglet frame?"

"Yes, if I had a winglet frame," agreed Ratchet. "I don't have one, I'm afraid. On the other hand, I think I know where I can get one…"

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

"Thundercracker is on his way as I speak to you, with a red and yellow winglet frame, "Dr Syn said cheerfully over the communications link. "He thought with a name like Firelight that that colour scheme would be appropriate. He has also said he'll stay with you for a few days to download the information she needs and help her learn how to use it in a practical manner."

Ratchet breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank Pit we're at peace, we would have had problems if we were still at war." Dr Syn nodded.

"Well, we are at peace and that's a good thing anyway." Dr Syn said. "Tell me when Thundercracker has arrived, would you?"

"Certainly." Ratchet agreed.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

Thundercracker walked in, and handed Ratchet a brightly-patterned winglet frame.

"Where is she?" the Seeker asked anxiously. Ratchet pointed to the fretful youngling who was in Bumblebee's arms, shaking and whining.

"Give her to me." Thundercracker said, holding out his arms. Surprised at the demand, Bumblebee at first didn't comply, and Ratchet asked "Why? I need to transfer her as soon as possible."

Thundercracker sighed.

"No you don't, she is sky-hungry _now_, and every moment she's further denied the sky increases her distress. I can fly: I can take her up into the sky and fly with her, that will ease the longing long enough for the transfer to be made, the relevant programming to be altered or removed, and the information to be downloaded. That will likely take time, time that this little one will find intolerable unless she gets to be in the air first. Trust me, I'm a Seeker myself and I have my own winglets, she needs to be taken up _right now_!"

Bumblebee immediately held out the sparkling, and Thundercracker held her tight in his long arms and headed out. For a short time they could hear her keening, then a moment later, they heard him take off, drowning out her cries.

"Well, I'd better get this checked and ready." Ratchet said, putting the winglet frame on his worktable.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

"Well, there, it's all done." Ratchet said as he onlined Firelight in her new body, six hours after Thundercracker had first arrived, two of which Thundercracker had spent in the air with the sparkling.

"I'll download the data she needs, then take her out to start using it." Thundercracker said.

"All I can say, Thundercracker, is thank you." Bumblebee said. "That, and that I think instead of being Firelight, I think she should be renamed, her name should reflect her element. Adding one letter should do it." Had he a mouth, the yellow scout would have been smiling.

"Firelight's new name will be Fireflight."


End file.
